


A Day in the Life

by dyingpoet



Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Brotherly Affection, Canon Era, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 11:02:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19294405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyingpoet/pseuds/dyingpoet
Summary: A few moments between a few newsies during downtime





	A Day in the Life

**Author's Note:**

> done for a commission for @seasickdolphin on tumblr!!! hope u like it b!!

Davey missed school. It was inevitable, before he’d become a newsie all he’d done was go to school, do schoolwork, teach Les about his schoolwork, and then go back to school. And he loved every minute of it.

Jack had laughed when he’d tried to confide in him before selling this morning, which he’d seen coming, but it still didn’t take the edge off.

Sighing, he clambered up the stairs to the lodge house, feet aching but he still turned in an hour early after a once and a lifetime good selling day, so the place was empty. 

“Should have brought a book,” he mumbled to himself before more or less flopping face first onto his bed. God, what he would give to have a book to read, he used to love his annotating shorthand, it was a whole system. 

He kicked off his shoes and rolled onto his side, the dim light taking a second to adjust to. A yawn escaped him, and he let his eyes flick over to Jack’s sparsely used bunk. It was getting cold, he wished the guy would stop sleeping on the roof. 

But there was something on the bed, a paper it looked like, and Davey frowned before pushing himself off the thin mattress and taking the steps to Jack’s bed. 

“ _ Progressive Movements in Child Labor Leave Politicans Scrambling _ .”

It was an article written in an impressive slant cursive, Katherine’s probably, she must have used some newsie quotes or else she wouldn’t have left it here.

He looked around at the bunk room, guilt worming its way in his chest. It was probably a privacy violation to read it without Katherine’s permission. But he  _ needed  _ to read  _ something _ . He might die otherwise, it was a health concern at this point. 

Within thirty seconds he was itching for a pen, the writing was good, really good actually. Grammatically, he’d spotted a few errors but it was fresh and concise. Katherine knew what she was doing. 

“Doing some light reading I see.”

Davey jumped, dropping the paper and starting backward as he looked up and saw Katherine at the foot of the bunk. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Davey said quickly, backing off Jack’s bed and nearly tripping on the way off, “I got caught up, I never should have read it, I’m sorry-”

Katherine shook her head, cutting Davey off and sitting lightly on the edge of the bed as she reached for her article. “Don’t be sorry, it’s always a good idea to get new eyes on a piece before you pitch it. What did you think?”

Taken aback at her candidness, Davey’s eyes widened, and he cleared his throat. “I’m not a writer or anything, I thought it was good but I don’t know how much weight that holds. There were a few things with commas, but it’s been a while since I was in class so I could be wrong.”

He was speaking really fast and he knew it, but Katherine smiled patting the bed next to her. “Show me, I’m working on grammar and syntax but it’s a process. I know you’re smart, show me.”

Frowning, Davey sat down tentatively and leaned to look at the page. “Well, again I’m out of practice, but right here…”

As usual, he lost himself in the work, and for the first time since coming to work, he found something hanging on to something he was saying about something that wasn’t newspapers. And it felt damn good.

* * *

 

“Crutchie! How ya doin’ this fine evening?”

Jack’s voice cut through the thin air on the roof, and Crutchie turned his head from where he was splayed out on the ground to see him climbing up the ladder. “Same as always, Jackie.”

He’d tried to force a smile into the words, but he was dead tired. And sore. And hungry. And cold. And Jack noticed everything, so Crutchie bit back his sigh when the newsie was sitting next to him a beat later. 

“Ain’t sure what that means, kiddo,” he said lightly, although there was a flicker of concern in his eyes. “What’s eatin’ atcha?”

Crutchie shook his head and propped himself up on his elbows. “Nothin’ Jack, honest I’m fine.”

“Bull.”

Shrugging, Crutchie glanced at Jack sidelong. “I ain’t lyin’.”

“That’s bull too.”

When Crutchie stayed silent Jack inched closer to him, and the air lightened. When Crutchie looked again, he started to scramble back. He’d seen that look in Jack’s eyes before. 

“Jackie, don’t be thinkin’ what I think you’se thinkin’.”

“Dunno what you’re talkin’ about.”

“That’s bull- _ hey _ !”

Jack had squeezed at Crutchie’s good knee and now he was smiling despite himself, curling into a ball as the older boy loomed over him. 

Grinning far too much, Jack poked at Crutchie’s side. “You’ve been awfully quiet the last couple days.” 

“That ain’t true,” Crutchie giggled out, squirming a bit once Jack started going at it in earnest. “I’se always this quiet-Jack  _ stop _ !”

Jack in his usual fashion ignored Crutchie, almost straddling him as he attacked any part of him he could reach. “Nah, you seem like you’se havin’ a good time.”

Crutchie was giggling his head off and blushing his head off, because Jack had figured out he was ticklish about a month ago and really wasn’t letting it go. “You’re stronger, this ain’t fair play!”

A snort of laughter cut off any more protest and Crutchie was too busy laughing to notice Jack grinning like an idiot. 

“You sound like a fuckin’ kitten when you laugh, kid.”

Crutchie had grown up watching Jack pick on the other kids like this when they got down, and now he knew why Race got jumpy around him when he was in a playful mood. He could barely breathe for Chrissake.

“Y-you’re mean!”

Jack just poked at Crutchie’s neck, getting a squeak out of him that Crutchie would deny later. “I’se a pretty nice guy actually, makin’ my friends laugh and all.”

Crutchie couldn’t get much out in terms of a response through the laughter, but he didn’t really care if he was being honest. It was the most he’d laughed in weeks, and if he’d ended up falling asleep from exhaustion on top of Jack afterwards, then so be it. 

**Author's Note:**

> this was f u n after that last angst!!! h y p e 
> 
> kudos/comments are appreciated,, and my commission info is on my tumblr @dying-poet if yall wanna help out a cheap ass College Bitch


End file.
